Methods of Communication
by microgirl
Summary: Emily worries it's over between her and Dave when they stop speaking to each other...Prentiss/Rossi


_Methods of Communication_

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything or anyone in regards to Criminal Minds; the show and its characters belong to a bunch of people who aren't me. I am merely borrowing the characters for my own amusement. Dance puppets, dance._

_Author's Note: I've never written a smut fic before, and this idea sort of hit me and wouldn't leave me alone. I decided to go for it, and this behemoth came out. I hope you enjoy it, and if you have time, please leave a review. They make me smile :) All constructive criticism is welcome._

_I should pretty much dedicate this to Mingsmommy, who went above and beyond in helping me with this fic. She let me bug her at every turn, and pushed me to make this better. Thank you for being a fantastic beta and an even better friend._

_

* * *

_

The alarm blared loudly, but Emily was already awake; exhausted, but awake. She'd been staring at the ceiling since before the sun rose. Rolling over slowly, she hit the "off" button. She inhaled deeply before throwing the covers back. Her eye lids drooped, but she forced them back open. Her muscles ached as she dragged herself to the bathroom. Once there, she stared at her reflection in the mirror. Large dark circles under her eyes and bloodshot whites greeted her. It didn't surprise Emily; she'd been used to it for the last two weeks.

With heavy feet, she headed to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. She filled the carafe with water and switched the machine on. The coffee maker coughed and sputtered and a single drop of dark liquid fell into the glass pot.

"Not today," she growled, banging the side of the machine. "Do not _even_ mess with me today." She slapped the plastic again. "I will send you to the junkyard."

Finally, it gurgled, giving a steady stream of coffee. She sighed heavily, resting her head on the counter briefly. She stared at the pot until the last drop fell, and then moved to fill her mug. She sat at the counter with a bowl of oatmeal, trying desperately to ignore the infinite silence in her apartment.

After breakfast, she went back to her room to make her bed. It didn't take very long as the other side had been empty. She picked up the clothes draped over the chair from the night before, but it'd only been one set of clothes. No blue jeans or tailored-suit jackets or soft button-up shirts.

Emily dressed quickly, and headed back downstairs with her messenger bag. As tired as she felt, she was grateful for another day at work. She had three huge piles of paperwork waiting on her desk, but she figured it would provide more distraction from the heavy ache in her chest.

Before locking up, she made one last quick glance around to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything. Keys clenched in her hand, she turned and left.

By the time Emily pulled into the parking lot at the FBI building, her mood had improved considerably. She'd been able to push all of her emotions into neat little boxes. However, some of those had gotten knocked over when she got to the entrance, and saw JJ and Will together.

Will, holding Henry, stood with JJ beside a car parked along the curb. The former detective said something to JJ, making her laugh, and caused the small child to giggle also. Walking past the threesome, Emily's heart panged when Will kissed JJ on the cheek.

"Good morning," JJ greeted brightly to the brunette agent. Will repeated the sentiment.

Emily forced a polite smile. "Hi guys."

Prior to pulling the glass door open, Emily glanced back to see the media liaison walk away, waving to her family; both men waved back.

Quickly clearing her mind once more, Emily hurried to the elevators. She jogged to a set of doors just as they began to close.

"Hold the elevator!" She called, reaching a hand out to push them open, but another hand inside beat her to it. The doors pulled back, making a "ping" sound, and Emily was greeted by Kevin Lynch and Penelope Garcia.

"Sorry about that, Agent Prentiss," Kevin apologized when she joined them. "I didn't see you there."

"It's no problem," she said. "Thank you."

The ride up Emily stood in front the two tech analysts, and pretended not to listen as they whispered to each other. She did catch snippets of the conversation, words like "whipped cream," "feather boa," and "video camera."

Another "ping" sounded as the elevator stopped two floors below the BAU office area. Kevin stepped out after murmuring something in Garcia's ear that caused her to giggle. He kissed her, and waved politely to Emily.

When the doors closed again, Garcia sighed contently and turned to Emily. "And how are you this fine day, Lady Profiler?"

Giving a slight nod, Emily replied, "I'm doing okay." She glanced at Garcia. "It sounds like you had a good night."

The blonde computer expert sported a wide grin. "There is nothing like wearing your man out." She lifted her eyebrow in a pointed gesture. "But you already know that."

Thankfully they arrived on the BAU floor so Emily didn't have to respond. The two women parted ways, and Emily headed straight to her desk. Turning on her computer, she dove right into work. She started the long, monotonous reports, detailing the procedures from recently closed cases. It was perfect as she kept her eyes on the screen for most of the day and not on the empty office on the left side of the bullpen. When she did break from the computer, it was only to answer a phone call. The sexual assault crime unit requested her help on a case, and she scheduled a meeting with them the following day, affording her another distraction.

Later, when Morgan and Reid told her goodbye, she looked up and was surprised to see bright city lights blinking against the deep blue darkness outside the large windows. After the two agents left, she went back to the computer; why not? It wasn't as if she had anyone waiting for her tonight. She continued to punch at her keyboard for a while before the muscles in her neck cramped up again. Pushing away from her desk, she rolled her neck around several times, listening to the occasional snaps and pops. Just as she pulled another file out, JJ and Garcia approached her desk together.

Garcia peered over the partition. "You know, it is okay to go home. I promise your desk will still be here in the morning."

Managing a tired smile, Emily rubbed her eye briefly. "I just didn't realize the day was already over."

JJ had her coat over her crossed arms. "Well, it is, and we wanted to see if you wanted to get dinner."

Garcia's eyes lit up. "I have the most fabulous Chinese food restaurant three blocks away from my apartment. Kevin has a World of Warcraft quest," she inclined her head toward JJ, "Will is still fixing her car." Her voice lowered. "And your spicy Italian is in New York getting ready to publish the next great American novel. It is time for a girls' night; even if it is Tuesday."

The two women were the only members of the team who knew about Emily and Dave's relationship. JJ figured it out fairly quickly when she'd called Dave regarding a new case early one morning and gotten Emily's groggy voice on his cell phone instead. When she tried to fib to the media liaison that she'd accidentally switched cell phones at the office one day, JJ simply replied that'd it once had happened to her and Will.

Garcia…well, Emily was never quite sure how she figured it out. All Garcia had told her was if Rossi mistreated her in any way, the hacker would erase every last bit of research for his new book, and, as an added bonus, bounce a little extra alimony to his ex-wives. Despite the initial shock, both women had been supportive of her relationship with Dave; they promised to not to tell anyone.

Emily let out a breath. "Thanks, but I think I'm going to-"

"Stay?" Garcia finished, shaking her head. "No, no, no, my dear."

Leaning closer, JJ pursed her lips. "Yeah, you have barely left this desk all day. Your lunch was three cups of coffee."

Cocking her head in confusion, Emily waved her pen between the pair. "What? Are you guys stalking me?"

Garcia huffed. "Please. Stalking gets pretty boring when your prey doesn't move." She moved around the desk and tugged on the back of Emily's desk chair, successfully rolling her out of reach of the computer. Putting a hand on the agent's back, she then pushed Emily forward so she could grab the black overcoat from the back of the chair and dropped it in the brunette's lap. "So put on your coat, get your purse, stand up, and come with us."

Emily tried to protest again, but Garcia beat her to the punch.

"You know the directions to my place, and before you say you're too tired, you can ride with us if that's the case."

Looking between the two, Emily knew she wasn't going to have much of a choice; JJ had raised a challenging eyebrow and Garcia gave her a very determined, very pointed look. The blondes had created a massive force field, unable to be penetrated by any excuse.

After a long stare down (she wasn't going to give in that easily), Emily finally sighed. "Does your great Chinese food place have Kung Pao chicken?"

* * *

Forty-five minutes later, Emily found herself seated on the floor across from her co-workers in Garcia's living room, with various cartons of Chinese take-out littering the coffee table. The scents of chicken, rice, and spring rolls combined for a delicious aroma. The smell was almost as good as the taste of the food itself. Garcia was right; she did have the most fabulous Chinese food restaurant. Emily considered moving closer to the Quantico area just so she could have this take-out.

The conversations had been light and airy; Emily laughed for what felt like the first time in weeks. But then JJ mentioned she and Will had bought a new recliner, and Garcia made a sly remark about "christening it." Emily's heart sank at the turn of the discussion.

JJ smiled conspiratorially. "I won't say anything except that Lazy-Boy makes a _very_ sturdy rocker."

Huffing good naturedly, Garcia rolled her eyes. "Oh please, honey. I found that out the first night I stayed at Kevin's house."

Despite her conflicting emotions, Emily managed to interject herself into the conversation. "Why does that not surprise me?"

"Hey, now. I'm no cheap date." Garcia protested. She then paused for a moment, for effect. "Kevin did take me to a nice steak restaurant before hand." With her fork, the tech pointed between the two agents. "And at least your snookums are audacious. Kevin's parents came into town and we had dinner at his place." She shook her head. "He couldn't form a sentence for almost ten minutes when his father sat in the chair."

JJ nearly choked on the wine she'd been sipping. "And you think Will is unflappable?" She snorted. "Please. That good Southern boy nearly confessed our sins to his mom when she used our bathroom."

The computer tech chuckled, raising her glass toward Emily. "Looks like you win."

Emily gave a small nod of acknowledgement. "Thanks." Her stomach had tightened and not because of the food. She and Dave had done their fair share of "christening" furniture; her couch, his shower, her stairs, and his kitchen counter. She just couldn't remember the last time she had smirked when she looked at her couch.

"Well, as nice as it to not be able to move the day after," JJ cleared her throat, "_using_ the chair, there is something to be said for the bed."

"You obviously had a good weekend then." Garcia waggled her eyebrows.

Her forehead furrowed in confusion, JJ asked, "How does that comment automatically connect to what I did on the weekend?"

Garcia sighed haughtily. "I have powers beyond your imagination. Now spill."

JJ relaxed against the cushions. "Will cooked dinner for the three of us on Saturday night and we ate on the deck. Then after Henry went down for the night, he brought me to our room where there were rose petals everywhere, candles, and a chilled bottle of champagne." Sighing, her eyes softened at the memory. "It was really a beautiful night."

An icy stab of jealousy crept in Emily's veins, and she hated it. Hated it because she knew she should be happy for her friend, and she wasn't. But mostly she hated it because the last time she and Dave had dinner together was at a hotel in Xenia, Ohio and they ate sandwiches from a brown paper bag with the rest of the team.

"Awww, that's so sweet," Garcia gushed. "No matter what anyone says, you can never go wrong with the classics."

JJ blushed slightly. "Kevin seems like the romantic type."

"Yeah, he can be." Garcia smiled. "But do you know some of our best times have been when something stupid has happened and we just laughed over it? Like this one time I had bought this piece of lingerie with all of these laces…"

Emily drifted out of the conversation as her neatly packaged, labeled boxes all started falling out of their compartments. Her head started to pound in time with her heart. She clenched her hands until her knuckles almost turned white. Then she felt the hot burn of tears behind her eye lids, and she did everything she could to keep herself together.

It was then Garcia turned to her. "What about you, Emily? Does Rossi use that Italian accent...?" She trailed off, presumably because she saw a few tears slip down Emily's cheek. "Hey, there. What's going on? Are you okay?"

Sniffing, Emily furiously wiped at her cheeks. "Oh I'm fine. I just…its allergies."

JJ shook her head slowly. "That's not just allergies." After a moment, she leaned forward and asked in a very gentle voice, "Has something happened between you and Dave?"

At his name, panic welled up inside Emily. Clearing her throat, she threw her napkin on the table. "I should probably get going." She started to stand up, but Garcia stopped her.

"No, no, no. There's obviously something bothering you that are not allergies." She cocked her head to the side. "You can talk to us."

But Emily remained tight-lipped, fighting the urge to flee the apartment. Silence filled the tiny living room for several long moments as Emily stared everywhere else but at the pair on the couch.

It was when JJ quietly said, "You don't have to tell us anything you don't want to," that Emily's dread eased.

Taking a deep breath, she swallowed heavily. "Things…haven't been going very well between me and Dave."

Placing the carton she'd previously held on the table, JJ turned to give Emily all of her attention. "How so?"

Emily bit her lip to keep more tears from falling. "It's just…the team has been busy with cases, and we never see each other." She chuckled ruefully. "And when we do see each other we only fight."

"Emily," Licking her lips, JJ paused as if she were afraid to ask her next question. "Has it been a while since you two have…had sex?"

Shaking her head, Emily huffed. "I really hate people who work with profilers sometimes."

The blondes shared a knowing look, and Garcia shrugged. "We kinda figured it out. Rossi hasn't been a picture of sunshine lately." Emily noticed that too; he walked around the bullpen with a scowl on his face. When Dave permitted people in his normally closed office, it was only to bark orders at them, before shutting the door.

"And you've been pulling a lot of late nights at the office," she added.

Sarcasm was always Emily's best defense. "Yeah, I've gotten pretty used to spending my nights alone. I might as well make good use of the time."

She tried to face her two friends with what she hoped was a steady half-smile. But apparently she wasn't as brave as she thought because Garcia got up from the couch. "Oh, sweetie." The tech analyst got down next to her, and hugged Emily tightly.

The gesture surprised Emily; Garcia squeezed her hard enough to cause a few more tears to escape. "I'm okay," she tried to protest, but Garcia didn't let up. JJ had also moved to sit next to them on the floor. Emily felt stupid and grateful for their support at the same time.

When Garcia finally pulled back, a more genuine smile tugged at Emily's lips. "Thank you," she said quietly.

"You're welcome." Garcia bumped her shoulder. "So tell us; what's going on?"

Playing with a piece of string on the rug, Emily's shoulders sagged. "We were so busy at the beginning of the month with all of those cases." Because they didn't want to risk being caught by their co-workers and possible backlash from defense attorneys, she and Dave agreed to never have personal contact while working a case. Nearly two straight weeks on the road tested their limits, but they managed.

When they finally made it back to Quantico, the strangest thing happened. They didn't make love that night. Sure, she followed Dave back to his place, but they were both so exhausted from living out of a suitcase, they fell asleep with their clothes on. But she'd woken up alone the next morning. And they didn't make up for lost time that evening or the day after. Neither of them spoke about the problem, and it went on for the next several days.

"Then we just started coming up with reasons to not see each other. His publisher was pressing him for new chapters; I needed to do research for a presentation at Georgetown." A shuddering breath escaped her. "Finally we managed an evening to ourselves, and within ten minutes we were fighting." Emily's mind flashed back to that night where a simple hello had somehow turned into a very loud, very heated argument about where shoes go by the front door.

She grunted. "We fought every time we just spoke to each other." In a very small voice, she finished, "And now we don't even speak." Dave had left for New York on Sunday night, and she hadn't gotten so much as an email from him. Usually he'd call her when he made it to his destination safely, but she had heard nothing. And she missed the low, soothing sound of his voice more than she could say.

JJ rubbed Emily's shoulder. "It's normal to get bogged down in work that you end up forgetting to check in with each other."

Emily looked at her with an incredulous expression. "Is almost a month normal?"

"In our case, yeah." Despite Emily's biting tone, Garcia's voice remained kind. "We work twenty-four/seven. Besides, men would rather cut off a limb than admit there's any sort of problem in the bedroom." She smiled reassuringly. "You can't read too much into him shutting down."

But Emily did. Sleepless nights in her bed had given her plenty of time to think and all of her profiling skills had led her to think that…maybe their relationship was solely based on sex. It had never been a problem for them in the past. Sex had always been great between them; fantastic even. But lately it seemed as if the passion had faded, and all that was left were two incredibly strong and volatile personalities that clashed all the time. Had she fooled herself into thinking she had found something real and precious? Was she another notch in his belt and he avoided her because he didn't know how to get rid of her? The possibility of…this falling apart scared her more than anything ever had before.

JJ then asked, "When does Dave get back?"

"Tomorrow morning. He's coming straight to the office."

She followed with, "Can we offer you a little advice?"

Shrugging, Emily replied, "Sure."

JJ rested her hands in her lap. "Talk to him. _Tomorrow_."

Garcia nodded vigorously. "Yes, yes. Don't let him tell you he needs to unpack or work on his book or take a nap." She then looked straight at Emily. "And don't you worry that it's a school night or that you have twenty consults the next day. Get him over to your place and turn off every form of electronic communication technology you both have; cell phones, pagers, computers, landlines, the whole shebang. And have a quiet evening with him, just the two of you.

"Screw paper work, screw books, screw-" Pausing for a half a second, Garcia's lips lifted into a grin. "Just screw him."

Clearing her throat, JJ's mouth turned up ever so slightly. "As Garcia so thoughtfully put it, yes, that's the idea. Don't let this eat you up any further." Sensing the apprehension in Emily's eyes, she continued, "Sometimes the simplest explanation is the right one."

_That's exactly what I'm afraid _of, Emily answered mentally. After a long moment, she finally let out a long breath. "Yeah." She knew what the two of them said was right, but a part of her was scared of what she might find out. Yes, the most logical explanation was likely Dave didn't know how to address this problem either, but she could also find out she'd wanted a relationship based on nothing.

Putting her arm around Emily's shoulder, Garcia added, "And if on the off, off, off chance Rossi tells you he wants out, I'll make sure he makes some very generous donations to ex-wives."

"And I can make sure you have the perfect place to hide the body," JJ smiled.

* * *

Emily thought saying the problem out loud would alleviate the constant ache she carried, but it only intensified the pain. So after she left Garcia's, she stopped by the grocery store to pick up a few things. She planned on inviting Dave to her apartment for dinner the next night so they could talk. To ease the thoughts sprinting in her head, Emily decided to start preparing the meal that night so it would be ready by tomorrow. She picked up the ingredients for Italian beef with Italian white bean salad; his favorite.

As she got the meat and spices ready to go into the crock-pot, Emily mentally went over what she would say to him. She wanted them to have a calm and rational conversation. She tried to prepare herself for the possibility of their relationship ending. Her heart clenched in her chest. Had she known several weeks ago might be the last time she woke up with his skin surrounding her, she probably would have insisted they never leave the bed.

After only a handful full of hours of sleep, Emily headed back to the BAU the next morning with a black hole in her stomach. She didn't see either JJ or Garcia when she sat down at her desk which strangely relieved her. Besides Dave, it'd been a very long since she'd bared her soul to anyone. She hated going to other people with her problems because they were either indifferent to her plights or they smothered her with pity.

Dave still hadn't arrived by late morning, but she did see JJ and Garcia as they walked to Hotch's office. It was everything Emily could to not to bury her face in a file. But she managed a small nod to the two of them, and they smiled in return.

By the time she made back in from the consult early afternoon, she found out Dave had returned. It didn't appear so because his office door was shut as usual, but Morgan told her he'd been through, grouchy as ever before he shut himself away. She told herself it would look suspicious if she bolted up the ramp right away so she needed to wait. Apparently she needed to wait a couple of hours because she tried to build her courage. With all of her previous practice, she _still_ didn't know how to approach him.

Later, Emily had been engrossed in a casefile when she heard a low thumping at the side of her small cubicle. She found Garcia standing there her own file in hand.

Holding up the folder, Garcia told her, "I have some foster care numbers Rossi wanted. I knew you were going to see him about the Rollins case so I figured you can give him this as well." She offered Emily the file. "Save an extra visitor for him."

It didn't take Emily long to get what she'd really meant, and she slowly took it from Garcia. Then the tech added, "He wanted those ASAP." She then turned and left.

Emily smiled to herself. She should be upset she was still being watched, but warmth bloomed in her chest at knowing her friends keeping an eye on her.

She slowly made her way up the ramp to Dave's office. Standing outside the door, she took a deep breath. She knew she couldn't linger long because it would look strange to just be standing outside his office so she knocked on the wood.

A loud and terse greeting of, "Come in!" came from the inside.

She went in, immediately shutting the door behind her. Emily found him at his desk, writing furiously on a piece of paper, the pen scratching across the page.

He didn't even bother to look up. "Those better be those statistics I asked for, Penelope."

"Yeah, she asked me to bring them to you," Emily replied.

Slowly looking up at her, his dark eyes softened slightly. Dave carefully set his pen down. "Emily. I didn't know it was you."

"Garcia just asked me to drop these off to you." Crossing the room, she stood in front of his desk and gave him the folder. He thanked her, and they stared at each other for a long moment, a painful, awkward silence filling the room.

Ignoring her rapidly beating heart, she plowed ahead. "How did things go in New York?"

He rested his arms on the blotter. "Great. I met with my editor and we set date for me to send him my first draft."

A genuine smile lit her face; she knew how hard he'd been working on his new book. "That's wonderful. Congratulations." Knowing she would lose her nerve if she waited any longer, she didn't bother with any segue way. "I know you just got back, but I wanted to invite you over for dinner." She paused. "We haven't had a chance to catch up in a while." She wanted her tone to be as neutral as possible so it didn't sound like she blamed him for them not having seen each other.

His forehead wrinkled in thought, and it seemed as if he debated the proposal in his mind. Finally, he licked his lips. "I have to pick up Mudgie, so…" Her mind immediately started going to counter response, but he finished with, "…I won't be at your place until later."

"Seven o' clock okay?"

"That works."

"I'll see you later, then." She turned around, and headed back to the door. Just as her hand touched the knob, she heard him say, "Emily?"

Shifting back, she watched as he stood up. His fingers nervously tapped against the wood of his desk. "It's…it's good to see you."

"It's good to see you too," she murmured before leaving.

* * *

When Emily arrived at her apartment that evening, the thick scent of cooked meat greeted her as she opened the door. She went to the kitchen, stirring the contents of the crock-pot. Sneaking a bite, she found the meat spicy and deliciously juicy. After turning on the oven to toast the rolls, she went upstairs to change out of her work clothes.

By the time she'd set the plates and silverware on the breakfast bar, Emily heard a knock at the door. She rubbed her suddenly sweating palms on a dish towel before going down the hallway. She'd done what Garcia had suggested and shut off her desktop, laptop, and disconnected her landline; she'd left her cell phone on in case she got called for an investigation.

Her pulse going well into the triple digits, Emily turned the knob with a trembling hand. Dave stood with his arms by his side, but she did notice his shoulders appeared stiff and tense.

"Hi, Emily," he greeted in that gentle voice that never failed to make her stomach flip.

"Hi." She stood aside so he could pass. "Did you get Mudgie back all right?"

"Oh, yeah. He acted as if he hadn't seen me in a year, but then once we got back to the house and I gave him a chewy, he ignored me completely," Dave answered wryly.

"Good." She walked with him back to the kitchen. "I made Italian beef for dinner. The rolls should be ready in a few minutes."

"I know." The corner of his lips lifted. "I could smell it all down the hallway outside your door." He took a breath. "It smells great."

She thanked him, and they ended up staring at each other for a few moments. Emily's heart dropped; their relationship was really just about sex. They had gone from passion to fighting to stiff conversation. Good thing she'd also picked up a half gallon of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. She had a feeling she'd need it later.

Once she pulled the bread from the oven, they sat at the breakfast bar to eat. Their conversation was forced and awkward; it seemed as if they had to think of things to say to each other. Then there were pained silences, only filled by the scraping of silverware against the plates and the chink of glass against the tile surface as they placed their glasses down.

When they finished, Emily cleared the dishes, and then sat back down with him. Now there was nothing left to do, but talk. She just needed an opening. All those relationship articles she'd read in the past taught her never to open with, "Hey, we need to talk," but for life of her, she couldn't think of anything else.

Luckily Dave beat her to it. "So, uh, I know we haven't seen each other in a while…" he trailed off as if he didn't know what else to say.

Taking in a shaky breath, she closed her eyes tightly, trying her best not to cry. She'd had a boyfriend who ditched her after he found out she was pregnant, another who tried to tell her the woman she just caught him in bed with meant nothing, and a man who she overheard tell a buddy she was a freak after going on about Vonnegut. So, she could handle this. Really. She could be brave and tell him she understood, and let him be on his way.

Opening her eyes, she just decided to forget her carefully prepared speech, and go for the "rip the band-aid off" approach-painful, but at least it would be over relatively quickly. Then he would be gone, and she could sink into a puddle of tears and ice cream. "Rossi…just say it. You don't have to do this. I'm a big girl; I can take it."

As much as she considered herself to be courageous, there was no way she could look into his eyes to find the relief giving him an out. However, she couldn't ignore the incredulity in his voice. "What?"

Trying to keep her voice from wobbling, she didn't want to prolong this any further. Having him pretend to be kind about the whole thing just made it hurt more. "Look, just get it over with. Just say that you're breaking up with me and we can both go on-"

"What?!"

She licked her lips. "It's okay. I…I understand." Swallowing heavily, she continued, "I won't…we'll still be able to work together. I mean, people break up all the time, right. Just because a relationship ends--"

Her brave speech was cut off by the feeling of his palm wrapped firmly around her wrist as he pulled her, just the slightest bit roughly, to him. "Like hell," he growled, drawing her tightly in his arms. "I am _not_ ending this, and if you think you're getting rid of me, you've just signed up for one helluva fight, Prentiss."

Pulling back, she blinked at him, and sputtered, "Dave—"

"Look, I have been biting my tongue for a month to keep from fucking this up because I have crap communication skills when it comes to relationships."

Stepping back, he ran a hand through his hair and sighed. For all the time she'd known him, Dave had been cool and collected, both at work and lectures. Now he just seemed lost for words.

Finally, he let out a frustrated breath through his nose. "There's a reason why I've been married three times." He grunted. "I never knew when to keep my mouth shut. Every time I had a fight with them it escalated because I never would let anything go." Barking a dark laugh, he laid his hand on the breakfast bar. "It eventually reached the point where they decided to let _me_ go.

"I didn't want to do the same thing with you.. I wanted…I don't want to drive you away." Dave moved closer to her again, his dark eyes mirrored the worry she heard in his tone. "Then we started arguing and well, I'm still a bit of a hothead."

Remembering some of their more heated battles where he went off about where to hang up clothes in his bedroom, she gave a watery chuckle. "I knew I was going down the same road, and I didn't want it to get any worse with you. So I thought the best thing to do was…" Shrugging, he his hands drop to his sides. "…shut up." He made a depreciating noise. "And that just made things even worse; in more than one way."

She stared at him until he clarified. "Don't even think for a minute that I haven't noticed that we haven't…" he trailed off for a brief moment, and she could've sworn he blushed. "…been together for the last twenty-six days. I know; I've counted."

Despite the laugh that threatened to bubble to the surface, she still remained somber. "I just thought…maybe we'd…reached the end of this."

His face was that of honest sincerity. "I'm sorry you thought that." The corner of his lip lifted into that endearing crooked smile. "I guess I should've warned you I get a little," then he amended, "a lot cranky when I miss you."

Her heart sped up at that admission; it'd been a long time since anyone had said that to her. "You missed me?"

He nodded. Looping a strand of hair behind her ear, he let his fingers linger on her cheek. "I wanted to stop the silent treatment between us; I just didn't know how to talk to you."

Letting a long, relieved breath, the pressure in Emily's chest had finally dissipated. A few tears escaped, but for once they were happy tears. "And here I thought you wanted to get rid of me."

His eyes reflected the same pain she felt at the thought of not falling asleep next to him again. "No," he protested emphatically, pulling her to him. "Never."

She sunk into his arms, relishing in his strong, yet gentle embrace. Sighing contently, she nuzzled her face into his neck.

Bringing his lips against her ear, his goatee tickled her sensitive skin there. "So are you planning on getting rid of me?" He tried to sound teasing, but she could also hear the tentativeness in his tone.

Rolling her eyes, she pressed her lips to his jaw. "No, I seem to have a thing for stubborn, hotheaded, cranky men."

When she heard the smirk in his voice, she couldn't resist her own smile. "What can I say? I'm one of a kind."

They stayed in each other arms for what felt like hours, and that was just fine with Emily. As far as she was concerned, they had to make up for lost time. Besides, she wanted to savor the feeling of knowing she hadn't lost Dave; that this was something real and precious.

He began to move them in a circle, singing softly in her ear, out of tune, but completely adorable. It didn't take her long to figure out his song.

"You know, there is music beyond Dean Martin and The Rat Pack," she teased.

Pressing a kiss to the top of her head, he let his cheek rest there. "Don't knock it. They don't make music like that anymore."

Her eyes closed, Emily concentrated on nothing but the sound of his voice as they danced slowly to the tune Dave sang. She'd missed these quiet moments, when it was just the two of them. These times where they could put aside all of the pressure and rules of their job, and just simply be with each other.

And she was fairly certain he missed her too, and not just because he admitted it earlier. Judging by the evidence pressed against her hip, he missed her _a lot_.

"You said you were bad at talking," she started, her fingers running through the hair over his ear. "But have you considered non-verbal communication?" She kissed the spot right below his lips.

He chuckled. "I can give it a shot." Dipping his head, he softly kissed her forehead before moving his lips to her eyelids. From there, his mouth touched the tip of her nose, making her to smile shyly. Then he finally kissed her lips, slow and sweet.

They stopped moving, and she felt his hand move up her back to hold the back of her head. His other arm remained around her waist, bringing her closer. His tongue gently nudged against the seam of her lips, and she opened her mouth to him.

Not for the first time, she didn't register anything but the sweet, cinnamon taste of his mouth. Humming in pleasure, she ran her hands up and down his back. Her knees turned to jelly, making it more difficult to stand, but there was no way she wanted to let him go.

But she had to as the need for oxygen became more and more pressing. They gently parted, standing with their foreheads together.

Blinking rapidly as if to clear his mind, his breath rushed out. "How was that?"

"Much better. Just stick with this the next time you want to keep from fighting," she grinned.

"Done." He cleared his throat. "You know, I know some other forms of nonverbal communication," he told her innocently.

Raising an eyebrow at him, she wrapped her arms around his neck. "Really?"

He nodded. "I'd be more than happy to demonstrate."

Without a word, she tugged on his hand to lead him quickly upstairs. Turning, she went to kiss him again, but she didn't process that he'd been following close behind her. She bumped into him, and he lost some of his footing. If it wasn't for the fact that she grabbed his arm, she would've sent him stumbling down the stairs.

She couldn't help but laugh at her own clumsiness and their close call. He chuckled too, but only for a moment. When she finally stopped, she caught him staring at her.

Raising her brow, she cocked her head. "What?"

He smiled that little smile when he liked to keep a moment just for them. "I just really missed hearing you laugh."

He leaned in, and she brought her face closer. Instead, she felt the briefest brush of his lips against hers before he nuzzled her neck, purposefully running his goatee there. His facial hair was surprisingly soft, prickling her skin. She continued to giggle in delight. Then he finally kissed her with lighthearted abandon.

They made it into her bedroom where he undressed her slowly. Resisting each of her attempts to speed things up, he simply brought her palm up to his mouth to touch his lips there. He laid warm kisses to each piece of newly exposed skin; the base of her throat, the valley between her breasts, the flesh just above her navel. Sighing softly, she shivered at the attention he bestowed upon her.

Once he unbuttoned her pants, and she stepped out of them, he bent down, planting wet kisses on the curve of her hip. Breathing raggedly, Emily gripped his shoulders tightly. He'd seen her naked many, many times before, but he always looked at her with the same reverence he had the first time he saw her.

When she finally got his shirt off, she traced the outline of his biceps lightly with her fingertips before caressing the soft, heated skin of chest and stomach, feeling him shudder in response. For a man of his age, his body still had a strong build. Tumbling onto the bed, they remained tangled around each other. Balancing on his forearms, he rose above her. She stroked his solid back again and again, loving the feel of his muscles tensing under her hands.

Framing her face tenderly with his hands, he brought his face down to brush his nose against hers. She held the gaze of his deep, mahogany eyes as he slowly slid into her. Her breathy gasp intermingled with his groan. Linking their fingers, he buried his face into her neck before he started to move.

This, this was all that mattered; the two of them together, wrapped tightly around each other. A rush of bliss washed over her. He was the one that wasn't like any other man she'd ever been with. Their movements began deliberate, unhurried, but that impatience that had plagued Emily earlier bubbled to the surface. She shifted her hips, causing him to sink in deeper, and he started a faster pace. Arching her back, her insides continued to coil and tighten with need. Breathing in short, choppy pants, his neck was corded with effort, and she knew he was close. He rotated his hips a little with the next thrust, and that was all she needed. Falling apart, she dug her nails into his broad shoulders, as an intense wave of pleasure swept through her. Grunting her name, he followed her over, his eyes closed as she felt him pulse into her again and again.

Breathing hard, he collapsed on top of her, his body surrounding her as if she were under a soft blanket. Stroking her hands over his skin that was covered with a fine sheen of sweat, she sighed contently. Occasionally, he turned his head, pressing kisses to her jaw and her collar bone. She brushed her lips across his forehead.

Rubbing his rough foot on her shin, he asked, "Why did we stop doing this again?"

She smothered a laugh against the side of his face, holding him tighter.

Rolling over, he brought Emily with him before reaching forward to pull the covers around them. Before, her bedding had smelled of vanilla and lavender fabric softener as Dave's scent had long since disappeared, leaving her nothing to cling to on those lonely nights. Now, as the blankets and comforter fell around them, that spicy, slightly woodsy scent of him rushed to her with the stream of air that had been created.

Sliding under the sheets cooled her skin considerably, but then she found herself cocooned against him. Dave settled on his back, and she rested her head on the soft skin of his shoulder. Draping an arm over his chest, she threw a leg over his thigh. Running his fingers through her hair, his other palm covered the hand she had over his heart. Sighing happily, Emily fell asleep to the sound of his even breathing.

* * *

The alarm blared loudly, startling Emily out of a deep sleep; a very deep and peaceful sleep. Currently she lay on her side, her back flush against Dave's warm chest, with their hands entwined under her cheek. Rising slowly, she moved toward the alarm clock, but the sleep befuddled voice behind her groaned, "Snooze," before he burrowed his head against her neck and resumed snoring. That was just fine with her. Hitting the "snooze" button, her eyes slipped shut again.

It had felt like she just dozed off when the alarm went off again. Moaning, she hit the off button, and elbowed Dave, telling him it was time to get up. He groaned and grumbled, but eventually gave in. She inhaled deeply before throwing the covers back, mustering up the strength to leave her cozy, warm bed. Hell, she would've stayed there all day if she could. The shock of cool air to her naked flesh caused her to shiver slightly as she stood up. Her eye lids drooped, but she forced them back open. Her muscles ached now in wonderful way as she dragged herself to the bathroom.

Once there, she stared at her reflection in the mirror. No dark circles under eyes, but there was a dark bruise on her neck and a bit of beard burn on her breasts. It didn't surprise Emily, but it did mean she'd need to apply some good cover-up to her throat or plan on wearing a turtle neck. Putting on her thick, comfy terry cloth robe, she exited the bathroom, smiling as Dave stumbled in after her.

With light steps, she headed to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. She filled the carafe with water and switched the machine on. The coffee maker coughed and sputtered and a single drop of dark liquid fell into the glass pot.

"Not again," she growled, banging the side of the machine. "You know better than this, you stupid machine." She slapped the plastic again. "I'll beat you with a sledgehammer before sending you to the junkyard."

She heard a chuckle from the bottom of the steps. Dave walked to the kitchen wearing blue jeans and a white t-shirt hanging over them. His disheveled hair and twinkling eyes made him look particularly charming.

Standing in front of her, he appeared as if he fought from smiling. "Problems?"

"Nope," she deadpanned as the coffee machine finally gurgled, giving a steady stream of coffee. He didn't say anything as they moved around the kitchen, preparing breakfast, but he did have a small smile on his face the whole time. Filling two mugs, she sat down with him at the breakfast bar, trading sections of the newspapers and the occasional kiss, discussing the articles, his book release, and her upcoming presentation.

After they finished, they went back upstairs. While he showered, Emily made the bed, taking a little longer as she had to pull together both sides. Looking at the clean floor, she grinned; of course he'd already thrown their clothes in the hamper and hung his jacket in the closet. And now seeing as there was nothing left to do in the bedroom, she sauntered to the bathroom. After all, she needed to put her robe back, and conserving water was always a good thing. Quietly opening the door, she snuck inside the steamy room…

Half an hour later, they dressed quickly, and headed back downstairs. Feeling tired, she was grateful there were only two days left in the work week. She wanted nothing more than to finish the paperwork on her desk and get through consults so she could concentrate on spending the weekend with Dave.

He usually left a few minutes before her so they wouldn't raise suspicion by coming to the office at the same time. Earlier, he decided to make a quick stop by his house to check on Mudgie and then head to work. Before he opened the door, he leaned forward, kissing her slowly, deeply and so very thoroughly. When he finally pulled back, she stared at him with half lidded eyes.

"See you in a bit," he told her affectionately.

"Bye," was all she could manage. She blinked a few times to regain composure. Keys in her hand, she turned and left.

By the time Emily pulled into the parking lot at the FBI building, she sported wide grin on her face. As much as she didn't want to, she knew she needed to put those wonderful feelings away for the day. She didn't see anyone from the team as she walked into the building and onto the elevators.

By the time she made it to the bullpen, there were only a few people at their desks. She went over to the little kitchenette area for another cup of coffee. Filling her mug, she added her usual two creamers and one packet of Splenda. She took a sip of hot liquid, surprised by the strong, delicious taste; usually they drank stuff that tasted slightly better than what was at the local gas station. Something this good meant Reid was around somewhere, and felt generous with the coffee that his friend from Las Vegas had suggested he get from Hawaii.

Sitting at her desk, she started organizing her notes and files for the day. She'd been so caught up in her work she didn't hear two distinctive females clear their voices. Bringing her head up, she found JJ and Garcia standing by her desk, both sets of eyebrows raised in question.

"Well?" Garcia drawled the word slightly. "How did it go last night?"

Before Emily could answer, Dave entered the office, a slight bounce to his step. And she could've sworn she heard him humming another damn Sinatra song under his breath.

"Good morning, ladies," he greeted, nicely. "JJ, Penelope, Emily." He inclined his head to each of them.

JJ snorted, obviously fighting a smile. Garcia didn't bother to hide anything; she smirked outright.

"Good morning, sir," she replied sweetly. "Aren't you just the picture of sunshine? Any particular reason?" Emily glared at the tech analyst, who just ignored her.

Dave just shrugged. "Just having a good day. You all do the same." He started to the ramp up to his office.

"Thank you, Rossi," JJ said.

Shaking her head, Emily rolled her eyes when both blondes turned back to her with knowing smiles and their eyes sparkling with mischief.

Tapping her fingers on the desk, Emily finally threw down her pen. "Oh ,for God's sake, you two just say it."

Garcia chuckled. "Sweetheart, your spicy Italian pretty much gave everything away. We don't have to say anything."

"But we will anyway. We can take it Rossi had a good night in addition to his good morning?" JJ gestured toward his office. After a beat she added, "As well as you?"

Emily sighed. "Yes," she admitted, smirking, even as she blushed a little. "He had all three: a good night, a good morning and me."

JJ slapped a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing aloud and Penelope shook with silent laughter.

"So everything is okay between you guys?" Garcia asked when she could speak.

"Yeah," Emily nodded. "We're great."

Their expressions shifted from teasing to genuine happiness for her. "Good. We're really glad to hear that," JJ told her sincerely.

"Thank you." Emily sometimes couldn't believe how she lucked out in finding good friends…even if they did drive her a little crazy sometimes.

"So," JJ smilied. "Girl's night next week? My house?"

"That sounds great!" Garcia enthused.

Emily quirked an eyebrow at the media liaison. "Oh, girl's night, yes, your house, no. Not after what I know what goes on your furniture."

The End


End file.
